June
8, 2019
11:25
local time,
The
Docks,
City
of Marian, Marian Capitol Region, Republic of Marian
“Greetings,
Roger,” said billionaire Don Glengarry in his thick Glaswegian accent, bowing
his head to his visitor, as he docked his yacht on the harbour.
“Greetings
Don,” said Roger Milton, a distant descendant from Aberdeen, returning the bow
from his perch on the harbour. He came with his henchmen, bringing Glengarry a
large crate kept closed with a large metal padlock.
“Open
it up,” Glengarry barked, who wanted to waste no time to inspect his latest
purchase. Upon orders, Milton started the process of opening up the box, as
Glengarry watched with baited breath.
“Wow,”
said Glengarry, smiling with glee. “That is a wonderful speciman.”
He then docked his boat and climbed up on to the dock to further inspect his
new product- an 18-year-old girl, Anna Nyquist, kidnapped from the streets of
Stockholm seven months ago. She was a nubile blonde with her hair in a ponytail
and stood in the crate naked, attached to the box in chains loose enough to
allow some movement, with a ball gag affixed to her mouth.
Glengarry,
36, started to run his hands on her body. Nyquist started to squirm before
Glengarry slapped her violently in the face, which caused her to stop. By this
stage, Nyquist knew better, as Milton beat her regularly to obtain her
obedience and it wasn’t the first time she had been examined by a prospective
buyer, though it didn’t change the fact that she was still being violated.
Glengarry, though, had soft hands, which made the violation easier to take but
not by much.
“Her
breasts are nice and firm,” said Glengarry, examining the body. He then put his
mouth to her breasts and started playing with her nipples. “I really love her
nipples...so nice and hard. Mmmmnnn.” He then put his hand to her genitals and
rubbed her clitoris, which caused Nyquist to squirm once more.
“Enough!”
Glengarry said, slapping her. “You’re going to enjoy this whether you like it
or not!” Nyquist wanted to cry, but she knew it would be no use, so she just
hung her head and let Glengarry do as he pleased. As she complied, he kept
rubbing her genitals, noticing how quickly she got wet. He then put a few hands
inside Nyquist’s vagina and wiggled them around.
“Ooohh...nice,”
said Glengarry with a smile. “Nice and tight.”
“She’s
a virgin,” said Milton.
“Just
the way I like it,” replied Glengarry with a grin.
He
then felt his way through her arms and legs, noticing how strong she was.
Nyquist was a swimmer and worked part-time as a handywoman, so despite her
slender physique, she was well-built, something Glengarry was truly impressed
with.
The
last thing Glengarry did was extend his arms out and wrap them around Nyquist,
giving her a warm embrace. At first, Nyquist wanted to squirm, but although she
still met the menacing eyes of her slave owners, she felt genuine warmth from
Glengarry, making her start to reciprocate the hug even more. Glengarry enjoyed
the hug, holding on to her longer than he usually did.
“Such
a warm, warm person,” said Glengarry, holding Nyquist tight. As they embraced,
Nyquist began to cry, overcome with the emotions of her situation, and,
although overall the situation still registered as a nightmare for her, the way
Glengarry held her, it gave Nyquist a brief sense of genuine compassion and
love, something she hadn’t experienced since she was kidnapped. Although Milton
did enough to keep up her shape by feeding her well and allowing- and sometimes
forcing- her to exercise, he still treated her very callously, never failing to
remind her who was her slave boss. Glengarry, though, seemed like he wanted to
treat her well, even though she knew she would still be his slave.
“I
think I’ve seen enough,” said Glengarry, satisfied. “You were right, Roger,
about having a top quality girl and she is TOP quality. What’s your price?”
“$70,000,”
said Milton, with slight hesitation.
Glengarry
scoffed. “No no no...I’d only pay that if there was a middleman...come
on...don’t play games with me.”
“Okay
fine...$65,000.”
Glengarry
was curt in his response. “$45,000.”
“$55,000,
but that’s it.”
“Deal!”
Glengarry then pulled out his chequebook and wrote Milton the cheque for
Nyquist, as well as an additional $8,250 in tips and another $200 to cover the
shipping fees for a total price of $63,450. A cleric was on hand to officially
wed the couple, although Glengarry planned a more formal gathering at a later
date.
The
two men then bowed and said their goodbyes, each satisfied they completed the
deal. Nyquist was then grabbed by two henchmen who held her as they released
her bonds and applied handcuffs to her wrists behind her back, before pushing
her towards Glengarry, who led her into his boat. Glengarry hastily ushered her
into her new bedroom, putting her into a new set of chains that made her lay
spread-eagle on the bed. Glengarry took another glance at Nyquist’s naked body,
admiring what he saw.
“You
know what I’m going to call you?” said Glengarry with a smile. “Kiki. Do you
want to know why?” He then adopted a playful tone before continuing. “Because
you’re so kinky!” He then chuckled as he removed his fez and
began undoing his shirt.
Nyquist,
realizing what was about to happen, lost her composure on the bed, beginning to
whimper and cry.
Glengarry
noticed Nyquist’s tears and took pity on her. “Oh…Kiki…don’t cry,” he said,
softly. “It’s going to be fun, I promise. I know…your first time…it’s a little
scary but I’m going to make sure you enjoy every minute of it.” Nyquist,
though, quickly realized how fruitless it would be to undo her bonds, so she
took a deep breath and decided to make the most of the most unfortunate way for
her to lose her virginity. With Nyquist calmed, Glengarry decided to take off
his pants and his underwear, and proceeded to start having sex with her.
June
8, 2018
20:39
local time,
Encinitas
Beach
Encinitas,
California
Serena
Riley loved the waves. A prodigal student of History at nearby San Diego State
University, Serena decided that before she settled down to enter the dreaded
“9-to-5” working fray, she needed to have some quality time to herself and her
surfboard. After all, once she started working her days of surfing could be
numbered, and she was still on the cusp of her prime physical years.
Right
now, though, the wavy, shapely brunette sat on the beach, clad in a
jewel-encrusted bikini, sunglasses, goggles on top of her head and wearing her
trusty bracelet, a jewel-encrusted one she made herself featuring one smiley
face giving the other a side hug. She sat there, feeling the sea breeze, and
felt at peace.
June
8, 2019
20:44
local time,
Eternal
Sunshine Resort,
Encinitas,
California
Staying
at the luxurious resort was the family of Mark Sanderson, the CEO of auto giant
British Leyland, who came traveling with some friends, mostly other workers
from BL. At this hour, Sanderson was having a late dinner with his wife, Marta,
and five of his friends, and, remembering that he had put to bed his kids-
five-year-old Heidi, a blonde girl whose left eye had a mark called “coloboma”,
and three-year-old twins George and Robert- a little over an hour and a half
ago, he excused himself to check up on his kids.
Upon
arriving to his suite, he opened the door and found nothing out of the
ordinary- the kids were sound asleep, the windows were shuttered and everything
was in its place. He then noticed one of his suitcases seemed a little off
kilter, but he attributed that to the wind that sometimes howled in when the
windows were open and thought nothing of it. Satisfied with the appearance of
the suite, Sanderson left to rejoin his family at the dinner table.
June
8, 2018
21:23
local time,
Encinitas
Beach,
Encinitas,
California
It
was at this time Serena decided to call her mother, Margaux, so that she could
go home. As soon as Margaux arrived at the parking lot at the other end of a
bridge, a teenage boy with a thick Aberdeen accent, a tan and swimming shorts
pulled up past his belly button noticed Serena and tried to strike up a
conversation with her.
“How
are you doing lassie?” The teen asked, flashing a warm smile.
“I’m
doing good,” said Serena, who returned the smile but kept her pace walking
towards the bridge. The teen, not caring that Serena paid him no heed, started
to follow her as well.
“What’s
your name?”
“Listen,
I’d love to stay and chat, but it’s late and I really need to get home.”
“I
really need a favour from you...my car’s broke down and I need some help.”
Serena
felt something was off about the teen. “Well, I’m sorry but there’s nothing I
can do about that.”
The
teen then grabbed her, and pleaded again.
Serena
angrily ripped his hands off of her. “Listen, punk, if you don’t leave
me alone you will leave me no choice but to call the police!”
“I’d
really like to know how you can do that when your cell phone doesn’t work.” The
teen then pulled out his cell phone jammer, and, almost instantly, ten other
men had come from the bushes before the start of the bridge and surrounded her.
Serena
wasn’t fazed though, adopting a battle stance. She was a trained fighter,
although eleven athletic men was something she never faced before. She still
welcomed the challenge, knowing she had to- she was literally fighting for her
life.
“You
guys know I won’t go quietly,” said Serena.
“Come
on lassie,” said the teen as one of the attackers drew a gun. “You don’t want
to play games with us. If you play along and come with us, you’ll make it out
alive.”
“Oh
yeah? So you want me to be submissive, so you can rape me and beat me and then
possibly kill me after luring me into a trap. Do you really think I’m that
stupid?”
“We
can make a lot of money together.”
Though
the last statement struck Serena as odd, she decided there was no point
reasoning with these men. Seeing an opening, she kicked the man holding the gun
in the jaw, making him drop his gun and sending him to the ground. Serena then
tried to run, but one of the other men caught her and threw her back into the
circle.
It
was here the fight really began. Once back in the circle, one of the men jumped
on her back, causing her to grab the man’s arm and flip him over top of her and
onto the ground, hitting two other assailants to the turf in the process. Serena
was lucky, as the flipped man had pulled out a syringe and was ready to use it
if Serena didn’t act quickly enough. The syringe flew well away from the melee
and got forgotten, and Serena never realized it was even there. After the flip,
she then got kicked in the back of the head, sending her to the ground, but she
instinctively swung her leg behind her tripping the man that just levelled her.
She then backflipped herself back upright, facing a man who attempted a punch
that Serena managed to block. Serena, though, then got grabbed from behind with
her arms incapacitated, allowing the man whose punch she blocked to get a few
hits to her face. Serena then flung her head at the attacker that was behind
her, headbutting him, before delivering a roundhouse kick that levelled the man
who had been getting free shots at her.
A
few more waves of fighting- with Serena holding her own- followed, eventually
reducing the fracas to just herself, the teen and another man, the rest having
been knocked unconscious. The man remembered the gun that had been drawn but
lost in the melee, and picked it up, pointing it at Serena. He decided he
didn’t want to mess around, and cocked the gun in preparation to shoot Serena. Serena
realized what was happening, so as soon as she saw the man brandish the gun at
her she found a nearby rock and chucked it at his head, knocking him to the
ground and forcing him to drop the gun again. This left just Serena and the
teen, who picked up the gun.
“You’re
a resilient one, aren’t you lassie?” The teen said, holding the gun and
pointing it at Serena. “Don’t play around now...I may just be 15 but I received
first place at the Marian Youth Marksmanship Academy. Now...this is your last
chance...come with me or you will get hurt.”
“You’re
15, eh?” said Serena with a smirk.
“Yeah…are
you mocking me?”
“No…I
just think you’re pretty cute.” Serena then flashed a playful smile, which
caused the teen to get redfaced.
The
teen, not expecting the compliments, began to stutter and loosen the grip on
the gun. “Well…uh…wow…um…thanks.” He then hung his head, sheepishly, while
babbling incoherently, smitten by Serena’s comment. The distraction was all Serena
needed, delivering a roundhouse kick to the teen’s head, knocking him out cold.
However,
before she could start running towards the car, one of the teens recovered
their consciousness and picked up the syringe. They then stabbed Serena in the
neck and injected her with a sedative, which knocked her out cold. The boy then
took Serena over his shoulder and waved his friends to come with him, where
they would bind and gag Serena and take her a private jet one of the boys'
fathers owned. There, the boys took their turns raping Serena- and ten other
girls they happened to pick up that day- as they flew to Marian.
June
8, 2019
22:15
local time,
Eternal
Sunshine Resort,
Encinitas,
California
At
the restaurant, the Sandersons were thoroughly enjoying their night. Time
seemed to flow just like the wine did, and what had once been a strict regimen
of going back to the room to check on their kids became a “once-in-a-while”
thing before the parents, in their drunken stupor, had forgotten to do it
completely.
By
22:30, the Sandersons’ forgetfulness irked Ira Bushell, the only member of the
group who wasn’t drinking. She decided that if the Sandersons weren’t going to
care for their children, she had to, so she went up to the Sandersons’ suite to
check up on the children. As she walked up, she thought she saw a middle aged
man with a fez carrying what appeared to be a blonde girl in pajamas fast
asleep in his arms, but, since she couldn’t get a good look at the girl, she
dismissed the find.
Immediately
alarm bells went off. The door to the Sandersons’ suite was open, and,
immediately after she opened it, Bushell saw that the door to Heidi’s room was
open as well. A draft also appeared to be coming into the suite, felt strongest
at Heidi’s room. Bushell, sensing something was wrong, walked to Heidi’s room
and opened the door.
She
gasped in terror. “Oh my…”
Heidi’s
bed had been disturbed, with her covers completely removed. The child was
nowhere to be found, with a note that simply said “Thank You!” put in the bed
in Heidi’s place. There were footprints coming from her bedroom window- which
was wide open- with the prints belonging to an adult. There were also skid
marks found on the floor, most noticeable by Heidi’s closet. Scared at the
sight, Bushell ran from the room to the restaurant, yelling “Heidi is missing!”
Immediately she was confronted by a security guard, Rodrigo Fernandez, as her
yelling disturbed and confused many of the guests.
“Ma’am,
calm down please,” said Fernandez, whose sunny demeanour and large frame evoked
a “teddy bear” sense to him.
Bushell
babbled incoherently, too distraught to properly form a reply.
Fernandez
spoke softly. “Take a deep breath.” After Bushell did so and regained a bit of
her composure, the guard continued. “Now, tell me what happened.”
Bushell
spoke with a noticeable quiver, although she was coherent this time. “Okay, so
I’m here with some friends, among them is Mark Sanderson and his wife…we were
all having a great dinner but at varying points in the evening we all agreed to
check up on his kids at regular intervals…however, everyone got drunk except
me, because I hate beer. Anyway, I went up to check up on the
kids and I noticed the door to the Sandersons’ room was open…and there was a
draft…and the window to Heidi’s room was open…and…” Bushell by this point
couldn’t keep her composure and buried her head in her hands, starting to cry
uncontrollably.
Fernandez
realized that he couldn’t get any more information out of Bushell so he looked
for Sanderson, eventually spotting his table. To Fernandez’s consternation,
Sanderson and his group were beyond sanity, laughing and guffawing
uncontrollably because of their intoxication.
“Lightweights…”
muttered Fernandez before deciding he had to talk to the Sandersons anyway.
He
walked imposingly to Sanderson, which caught the drunkard’s attention, but not
in the way he had hoped.
“Hey
It’s Mr. Burly Man!” shouted Sanderson, who got up and put his arm around
Fernandez, who let out a loud groan. “What’s up Mr. Burly Man?” Sanderson then
patted Fernandez’s noticeable gut. “Say, when are you due Mr. Burly Man? You
seem quite far along.”
Fernandez
snapped, grabbing Sanderson’s arm and twisting it behind his back, making
Sanderson let out a loud yelp. Fernandez kept his grip, allowing the pain in
Sanderson’s arm to throb uncomfortably all over his body.
“Listen,”
said Fernandez, menacingly, “I don’t care who you are or what
you can do to me…your child is missing and, for once, I want you to
give one wit about her!”
“My
child is wha?” said Sanderson, slurring his speech and still grimacing from the
pain Fernandez was putting him under.
“Your
child is not where she is supposed to be.”
“Huh?”
Fernandez
was exasperated. “She’s gone…vanished…disappeared…gosh, do I need to spell it
out for you?”
“Well,
maybee if yaw dint crush maw shoulder blade I migh be abil to understan wha’s
gon on.”
Fernandez,
realizing that Sanderson was being genuine, released his grip, causing
Sanderson to fall over and clutch his shoulder in pain.
After
about a minute Sanderson got up and started to stumble towards his room,
drawing a crowd. As he opened the door to his suite, Fernandez walked right
behind him, allowing the members of his party into the room but stopping other
people in the crowd from coming in behind.
Instinctively,
the Sandersons began milling about their room, looking for Heidi even though
both were stumbling badly through it.
“Waw…dis
wine sure iz strong,” slurred Mark. “It can make kids disappear!” Fernandez
buried his face in his hands and shook his head at the statement, as Marta made
an important discovery.
“Markie,”
she said from the twins’ bedroom, also slurring. “The twins are missing too!”
Mark
bolted from inspecting Heidi’s bedroom to meet Marta. “Wha?” he said, confused.
“The twins weren’t part of the-” He stopped when Marta gave him a look, a look
that Fernandez took notice of.
“I
saw a man,” said Bushell, joining the group in the twins’ bedroom. “He was
wearing a fez and was carrying a little girl in pajamas that looked a lot like
Heidi…it was before I entered the room to check on Heidi…he was too far away
for me to get a better look…oh gosh, I’m sorry.” Overcome with grief, Bushell
began to cry again, as the Sandersons collapsed to the floor and just fell into
a deep sleep. Fernandez let out a deep, frustrated sigh and left with the rest
of the group and organized a search party. It would last well into the night,
but none of the kids would be found.
June
9, 2019
11:58
local time,
Encinitas
Police Headquarters,
Encinitas,
California
“I
can’t believe how stupid you are man!” yelled Detective Ming “Tyler” Luo Kuang,
to his boss, Captain Carl Monroe, Tyler’s eyes wide with anger.
“For
the last time,” said the burly, clean-shaven Monroe, waving his hands by
each other, frustrated. “We are not bringing in the
Sandersons. End of discussion!”
“Sir,”
said Tyler’s partner, Ernest “Reefer” Madnis, softly but sternly, “the
Sandersons’ stories just don’t hold up…there are a lot of inconsistencies and
abnormalities…I think they qualify for a further round of questioning.”
“I’m
sorry,” said Monroe, exasperated, waving his arms wildly. “Who’s leading
this investigation? You puny rookies…or me?”
“With
all due respect sir,” said Reefer, his thick Surinamese accent in full display,
“but your views are short-sighted. Are you afraid of the Sandersons?”
“No,”
said Monroe, scoffing at the suggestion. “If they were viable suspects, then I
would bring them in…but they’re not, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Okay
then,” said Tyler, putting his hands on his hips. “Who is the
suspect then? You’ve spent the whole day telling us who isn’t a
suspect…tell us who is!”
“Exactly,”
said Reefer, calmly. “I don’t know how you can dismiss the guy with the fez…I
mean, the child he was carrying was a dead ringer for Heidi.”
“Fez
guy,” said Monroe in a sardonic tone, “wasn’t carrying three kids…remember, three kids
are missing, not one. Three.”
Tyler
waved his hand at Monroe while replying. “Who’s kid could that possibly be
then?” he said, frustrated.
“I
don’t know,” said Monroe waving both of his forefingers across the air, “but it
ain’t Heidi.”
Reefer
let out a sigh as Tyler shook his head at the suggestion. Monroe thought for a
second before continuing.
“Okay,”
he said, “you know who I think did it? The cleaner. The only one who could have
access to the room without needing a key. Besides, the cleaner went into the
room after Mark Sanderson checked it but before Ira Bushell checked it.”
“Seriously,”
said Tyler, deadpanning sarcastically. “You’re telling us the butler did
it? What are we, some terrible mystery novel?”
“Not
the butler, the cleaner,” said Monroe, incredulous.
“What
difference does it make!” said Reefer, angrily.
“Whatever,”
said Monroe, “this ain’t a novel to begin with this is real life…if the
butler actually did it, then we’re bringing him in. No questions
asked.”
“I
can’t believe you man!” said Tyler, throwing his hands up in frustration and
beginning to walk away. Reefer also gave Monroe a look and shook his head.
“You
know what?” said Monroe, indignant. “I’m suspending you both.
Don’t come back until tomorrow!”
“Fine
then!” said Reefer, angrily, as both he and Tyler left in a huff.
Just
before they got to their lockers, they met Margaux, turning in a form to
reception. Tyler, as was his style, couldn’t help but be taken by the
fair-skinned brunette, clad in a camouflage-style tank top and green Capri
pants, much to Reefer’s chagrin.
“Hey
pretty lady,” said Tyler, casually strolling up to her and leaning against the
desk, flashing a smile when he got there.
Margaux
gave him a disapproving look, scoffing at his advance.
“Oh
come on,” said Tyler, tapping his chest before outstretching his arms. “Don’t
you love a man in uniform?”
“Yeah
I find police officers sexy,” said Margaux with wry smile. “When they please
the greater good. Not when they just try to please themselves.”
Reefer
chuckled behind Tyler, though Tyler pressed on. “Oh come on,” scoffed Tyler.
“Today I helped looked for a missing child.” Tyler then smiled, believing his
deed was righteous enough for Margaux to be impressed by it.
“Great!”
said Margaux, giving a mocking clap. “You did your job! Do you want a gold star
or something?”
“Now
I was on an important investigation that could change the
world,” said Tyler, smirking. “Gotta give me some credit for that!”
“So
you think that because you went on some grand investigation it makes you a
worthy person,” said Margaux sardonically, “and you don’t seem to think that’s
the slightest bit narcissistic about yourself?”
Tyler
stuttered, trying to figure out an effective comeback.
“Do
you know how many times I’ve said that to him?” said Reefer, jumping in. “He
never gets it that women aren’t impressed by what you’ve done but
rather what you can do for them. He never understands that.”
“Oh
yeah?” said Tyler, scoffing. “What do you know about picking up women? You’re
gay.”
“I
sure know more than you do,” said Reefer, “besides, haven’t you forgotten- gay
guys get all the chicks.”
Margaux
laughed at Reefer’s remark, as Tyler conceded the point.
“Well,”
said Margaux, flashing a smile with a hint of awkwardness. “I probably should
get going. It was nice talking to you both.”
“Wait,”
said Reefer, sensing some distress in Margaux. “What brings you to the
station?”
“My
daughter has been missing for over a year,” said Margaux. “She went to the
beach one day, but when I went to pick her up, I waited for several hours in my
car and she never arrived. So I'm here to write a deposition…the police didn’t
do much at the scene, and the officer assigned to the case didn’t seem all that
interested…especially now as everyone seems to want to talk about that
Sanderson kid, as if my daughter means nothing because she's not 'young
enough'.”
“We
were just on the Sanderson case actually,” said Tyler. “We just got suspended
by our boss because he dismissed our observations- never mind we actually
investigated and he never lifted a finger.”
“You
guys got suspended for that?” said Margaux, shocked.
“Yup,”
said Reefer, frustrated.
“I’m
Margaux Riley,” said Margaux, shaking hands with Reefer and Tyler.
“I’m
Ernest Madnis,” said Reefer, “but,” he said, pointing to his hair before
continuing, “because of my dreads, I go by ‘Reefer’, even though I don’t
touch any of that stuff. It started in high school.”
“I’m
Ming Luo Kuang,” said Tyler, “but you can just call me Tyler.”
“There’s
a Jimmy Cochrane’s down the road,” said Margaux. “We should talk about
this…hopefully you guys can help me out.”
June
25, 2019
00:02
local time,
Cargo
Holding Quarters, Cargo Ship,
102
nautical miles en route to Akimiski Island
“I’m
cold,” said Heidi Sanderson, waking up from inside her crate. Alongside her, in
other crates, were 334 women, all between 12 and 32 years old, along with 51
girls aged from 4 to 11. Everyone was unclothed, aside from the blankets they
were periodically given which helped a little in combating the cold, damp
conditions of their confinement. They were in the cargo den of a cargo ship,
destined for a converted warehouse on Akimiski Island in The Republic of Marian
that held other slaves like Heidi. From there the slaves would be processed,
with some staying in the Akimiski Island and Moosonee areas working the area’s
vast mining operations and the newly discovered rich oil fields in the area,
though most of the slaves would be sent to a mysterious facility in Pickle Lake
where various slave traders would acquire the slaves that they will sell to
eligible bachelors hoping to land a wife.
Their
market was the Ontario Outback and Great Lakes regions of North America, a
sprawling, taiga-dominated region that based most of its economy on resource
extraction. Because of its remoteness and the bitter cold, the combined area
was hard to control, especially once one got further from the actual Great
Lakes themselves. Still, the resource wealth made it attractive, and numerous
factions over the decades attempted to control the Outback and the Great Lakes.
Over time, the Nathanite religion (an extreme form of Christianity) came to
dominate the Great Lakes region, creating a Laker culture and two semi-stable
Laker republics, The Republic of Marian and the strangely named Empire of
Michigan. The Laker culture also came to dominate the Outback as well, though
the Outback region never did gain a measure of the stability The Republic of
Marian or Michigan did.
The
Republic of Marian and Michigan were hardly ever friends, often going to war
with each other and with warlord factions within their territories and invading
warlords from the Outback. The years of wars and Nathanism’s cultural
preference for boys meant that the Great Lakes and Outback regions suffered a
demographic catastrophe where men (especially young men) disproportionately
outnumbered women. In 2017, the Laker republics signed a ceasefire backed by
the United Nations, which essentially established The Republic of Marian’s
dominance in the Great Lakes and the Outback. The agreement called for The
Republic of Marian to officially incorporate the southern half of the Ontario
Outback in exchange for The Republic of Marian agreeing to be the centrepiece
of an Ontario Outback economic union with Michigan and the newly created
Republic of the North Outback, of which The Republic of Marian and Michigan
(along with the neighbouring Catholic theocratic state of Superior and the
Roman Empire, who had a colony in Hudson Bay) would agree to provide economic
and military assistance to. Part of the ceasefire was a secret agreement with the
UN allowing The Republic of Marian and Michigan sponsored slave traders to
plunder other areas (under certain circumstances) of the world for women as
long as the Lakers agreed to help rebuild the Outback. The secret agreement
meant the Romans- who also claimed the Outback- would renounce theirs
officially, though they were unenthusiastic about it.
The agreement meant that the Great Lakes' demographic problems disappeared
almost overnight, which created another problem- the human traffickers now had
no reason to stay in business. It was then that the Lakers realized the world
still had a population of billions of impoverished but young, capable workers-
both men and women- with a country (The Republic of Marian) that needed them.
So the traffickers simply changed their tactics, establishing a "dating
industry" where both genders could purchase a spouse, instead of just men
as it was in the Great Lakes. The result was creating a country where no one
dates- in The Republic of Marian, everyone purchases their spouse.
Such
was the drama Heidi, an English national, found herself in, which would only
compound the anxiety she was already facing. Fortunately for her, a kind soul
noticed her plight.
“Hey
there little fella,” said Paige Hutton, 22, in the crate across from Heidi,
with a small quiver she tried to fight as she spoke. “Where are you coming
from?”
“I
was in California,” said Heidi, “but I’m from Dover, in England.”
Hutton
chuckled warmly, hoping it would ease the fears of Heidi. “Oh nice. I’m from
Dover. My name is Paige.”
Heidi
replied, thankful for a warm soul like Hutton, although she was still scared at
the ordeal. “I’m Heidi. It’s nice to meet you. How did we get here?”
Hutton
sighed. “Well, I was walking home from my job at the bar when these guys came
from behind me and stuck a syringe in my neck…next thing I know, I’m here in
this crate, naked, with some of my piercings removed, though they let me keep
my nose stud and my bellybutton barbell. What about you? How did you get here?”
Heidi,
still scared at her surroundings, was quivering. “I was sleeping…and I felt a
sharp pain…and then I woke up here…and I don’t know why.” Heidi then began to
cry, which shook Hutton, though she tried her best to stay composed for Heidi.
“Aww…muffin…I
wish I could hold you right now. Truth is, we’re all scared. We don’t know
where we’re going. All I know is that we’re going to get sold.”
“Sold?”
“Yeah…some
bad people, who can’t find a mommy for their kids have to buy one.”
“Buy
me? Mummy always told me that I can’t be bought.”
“Good
people know that…but these aren’t good people. The good news is, I don’t think
they want to hurt us…they want to love us…but we can’t forget no matter how
nice they are they’re not good people.”
“I’m
not old enough to be a mommy though.”
“They
probably won’t make you a mommy right away. Whoever buys you will raise you to
be a mommy when you are old enough, where you’ll likely get sold off again.
Me...I’ll likely be a mommy right away.”
Heidi
then began to cry again, a realization striking her. “Am I going to see my
mommy again?”
Hutton
sighed with tears welling in her eyes, but put on a brave face. “Yes you will.
Yes you will. Always remember that, no matter how tough things
get.” Hutton couldn’t fight it anymore and cried, realizing the significance of
her own words. “Never forget her…she will be the one who will get you through
this.”
June
25, 2019,
00:02
local time,
Detention
Room,
The
Cargo Ship En Route to Akimiski Island
“Explain
it to me,” said John, one of the cargo ship hands, helping another ship hand,
Scott, bring a slender but curvy blonde woman, 18-year-old Silke Dubois, onto a
table. “What he’s doing is very novel.”
“It
basically works like this,” said Scott, as they placed Dubois on the table
spread-eagle, clamping down her wrists and ankles and affixing a cleave gag to
her mouth. “Before, when women did this voluntarily, you had to pay the woman
fair value before you got her as a slave.”
“Shut
up!” John said, punching the frightened Dubois in the jaw, hoping it would stop
her squirming. He then took out a wire with clamps on both ends, affixing the
clamps on her nipples. The wire was then looped through a knot connecting it to
a loose strand of rope and another rope that was tied to a rope-like device at
her waist. The device had one loop that fit snugly around her waist, and
another loop that ran along the centre of her body, the loop just tight enough
so that it could be placed right inside her genitals and her butt crack and
press inside against both, especially when it got tugged. Though it
officially had no name, informally they called it, “The Fixxer”.
“She
really needs to learn how to behave, doesn’t she?” Scott said with a wry
chuckle.
“You
always get a few ‘problems’,” acknowledged John, as he added some oil to a
large spindle right next to the table. “That’s why we fix them.” He then looped
the loose rope through a hook on the ceiling and then threaded the loose rope
through the spindle, making The Fixxer tug at its strings and fit “just right”
on the petrified woman.
“So
anyhow,” continued Scott, inspecting the rope as Dubois panted frantically in
terror. “Obviously, to make a profit in that case, you needed to charge the
buyer something extra on top of what you paid...and no one was going to tack on
simply an extra dollar, since you’d earn nothing.”
“So
if a woman charged $20,000 for her services as a slave,” said John, as Scott
approved The Fixxer for its torturous duties, “the slave trader would have to
charge the buyer $40,000 for the girl, to recoup his losses.”
“Exactly,”
said Scott, starting to turn the wheel pulling at the wire and the device,
causing The Fixxer to clamp down on her nipples, stretch out her breasts and
start penetrating into the openings of her genitals and butt crack. This made
Dubois scream in pain, screams the two men ignored.
“So
this way,” said John, “we only charge the $20,000, keeping the prices down.”
“Well,
we still need to charge a little extra,” said Scott, “because we are still
breaking the law...but, you are right, costs are not as high because we no
longer need to pay the woman.” He continued turning the wheel, pressing even
further on Dubois’ sensitive spots, causing even more pain. “Of course, in some
areas, we’ve bribed government officials, allowing us to operate without worry,
and bribes are still cheaper than paying the woman. Especially when you can
provide shares in our budding venture.”
John
then walked over to Dubois, breathing frantically, her eyes wide in pain and in
terror.
“Have
you learned your lesson?” John asked, rubbing the woman’s forehead. He then
pulled down the gag, which made her decide to spit in his face.
John
then reapplied the gag and wiped the spit off his face. He then twirled his
hands in a clockwise motion, signaling to Scott to turn the wheel some more,
which he did. By this point, the pressure applied to Dubois was so great that
she was lifted off the table, pressing her extremities right against the
chains. The rope penetrated into her vagina and anus as deep as it could go,
and her breasts were stretched as far as they could go, the clamps applying
tremendous pressure onto her nipples. Dubois screamed in pain right from the
outset, and kept on screaming the longer John and Scott kept her up.
“You
know,” said John, as both men paid no heed to Dubois’ distress. “I really get
this venture...it’s trailblazing. Seedy, but trailblazing.”
“You
have to look at it this way,” said Scott. “The Romans, the Africans, the
Europeans, Britain, Canton...heck, the rest of the world...they all took from
us. Stole from us. So we steal from them...and why not take their most prized
possession...their women?”
“Especially
when we need them,” acknowledged John.
“Exactly,”
said Scott. “Besides, the Romans still celebrate The Rape of the Sabines...so
what we’re doing is all fair game.”
By
this point, they had bothered to turn their attention to Dubois. John again
rubbed her forehead.
“Have
you learned your lesson?” John said, as Dubois frantically shook her head
“yes”. John then tested it, pulling down her gag and kissing her, open mouthed.
Dubois, despite hating it, reciprocated, hoping it would make them take pity on
her and release her from The Fixxer, though John and Scott had no intention of
that.
“I
think I need a shot of rum,” said John.
“I
agree,” said Scott, smiling.
The
two men then departed, leaving Dubois stretched out agonizingly, the pain
getting more unbearable with each passing minute. She fought the urge to faint,
but she got close several times. Ten minutes later- an eternity to Dubois- John
and Scott came back to lower her to relieve her pressure, but they didn’t take
her off the table. Eventually, she passed out on the table, upon which they
released her from The Fixxer and raped her, before contorting her still
sleeping body into a small box.
June
9, 2019,
12:19
local time,
Jimmy
Cochrane’s Coffee Shop, beachside location,
Encinitas,
California
“So
tell us about Serena,” said Tyler as the three of them sat down with their
coffees.
“Well,”
started Margaux. “She just started History at San Diego State. She's into
dancing and she's very, very good at it...won lots of national
and North American medals over the years. Loves cats...the beach...oh, and she
loves attention. Super nice and friendly...really, I couldn't have asked for a
better girl.”
“Sounds
like quite the keeper,” said Reefer.
“If
she was popular, did she have a lot of jealous ex's?” said Tyler.
“Oh
yeah,” said Margaux, as if the answer was obvious. “She actually found it hard
to date because she could never tell if the boys were going out with her for
status or because they actually liked her...she's been cheated on more than I'd
like.”
“Well,
who likes being cheated on?” said Tyler.
“Is
it possible one of those ex's kidnapped her?” said Reefer.
“We
looked into it,” said Margaux. “Exhausted every one...and, nothing.”
“...and
then that's it?” said Tyler.
“I'm
not even sure what other lead there is,” said Margaux. “Once the police
exhausted the ex-boyfriend leads, he decided to give up. I was on my own,
researching kidnappings, but all I could find were spurious conspiracy
theories. Nothing made sense.”
“Why
don't you tell us one of them?” said Tyler.
“Well,”
said Margaux, giving it a shot, “one theory I read on Vicendum Newssaid
that McCrain Enterprises is behind a scheme to kidnap undesirables and sell
them as sex slaves worldwide, and/or use them for 'testing' the many
biochemical products they offer. I even read that many of the slaves are being
sold to people in the city of Marian, in The Republic of Marian, because a lot
of Laker expats moved there and wanted wives very quickly. In fact, Marian
seems to be Ground Zero for this 'woman trade', as very few women actually go
out and work there...most are housewives, so the article opined they're really
slaves.”
Margaux
let out a heavy sigh.
“Crazy
story, isn't it?” said Margaux, “but what other hope do I have?”
“You
know,” said Reefer, “maybe it's not as crazy as you think.”
June
20, 2019,
17:08
local time,
Don
Glengarry’s house,
City
of Marian, Marian Capitol Region, Republic of Marian
“Crap,”
said Nyquist in frustration, looking over a frying pan in the kitchen. After
her first night she was given clothes, and fitted with an ankle bracelet that
had a tracker on it. “No matter what I do it seems like it can never come out
right.” She was trying to make haggis for Glengarry for when he arrived, but
the special seasoning she applied to the potatoes just didn’t seem to simmer
right, among other things that went wrong that day. She angrily shut off the
stove and placed the potatoes with the turnips and the haggis anyway, before
putting a cover on it and putting it in the fridge to warm up later. She then
walked to the couch and slumped onto it, crying, with all the frustration of
her failed cooking experiment boiling over.
A
few minutes later, Glengarry, a stock broker, arrived home with a large box and
a bouquet of flowers. As soon as he heard Nyquist crying, he hurried to the
couch.
“Kiki,”
said Glengarry, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. “What’s
wrong?”
Nyquist
didn’t respond and just reciprocated Glengarry’s action, wrapping her other arm
around him so that she could be hugged and cry on his shoulder.
“Aww,”
said Glengarry, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay...did you have a long
day?”
Nyquist
nodded “yes” on his shoulder before speaking. “I was trying to cook you
dinner,” she said, “but nothing I did seemed to come out right.”
“Kiki,”
said Glengarry softly, looking into her eyes and wiping away tears, “I’m sure
it came out fine...besides, what matters to me is that you’re okay...as long as
I have you, then I don’t care if you make a mistake on the stove. It happens.”
He then spoke with a wide smile, excitedly. “I got you flowers...and I remember
you told me you love the XBox, so I got you one with all the fixins and your
favourite game.”
Nyquist
then got up, putting her hands to her face, still crying and wiping away tears.
“Why?”
Nyquist said, still bawling. “Why are you so nice to me? I’m just a slave...I
really mean nothing to you. I’m from Stockholm...I know all about the Stockholm
Syndrome...you just want to control me by making me like you.”
“No,”
said Glengarry, protesting. “No...why would I want to do that? I love you. I
really do. Every minute that I’ve known you I have grown that much more fond of
you.”
Nyquist
reacted angrily. “Then why did you make me wear an ankle bracelet? Are you that
afraid that I will run?”
“Your
slave masters suggested I do it so I was just following procedure but you don’t
have to wear it, Kiki.”
Nyquist
got even more upset. “My name isn’t Kiki. It’s Anna. I wish you would know
that.”
Glengarry
patted the air, trying to signal to Nyquist to calm down, understanding the
importance of the situation. “Okay...okay...I’ll call you Anna then. I’m
sorry...I should have asked for your name.”
“One
other thing.”
“Anna...anything.
I would give you the Moon if I could.”
“We
need to start over...have our first date...fall in love like we’re supposed
to.”
Glengarry
had a look of worry on his face, afraid of what this might mean for him.
Nyquist
caught the look. “Look Don, if you can’t trust me that I’m doing all that I
will to make this work...then I’ll know who you really are, that you’re someone
who doesn’t actually love me and just wants to control me. If your feelings are
true...you must trust me.”
Glengarry
sighed and pressed his tongue to his cheek, concerned. He thought about it for
a moment before responding. “Very well then,” he said. “I’ll leave the guest
house for you...and we’ll do this the right way. When can we have our first
date?”
“Tomorrow
evening. I’m exhausted right now.”
“As
you wish.” Glengarry then spent the rest of the night setting up the guest
house for Nyquist, even giving her a set of keys all for herself. In the back
of his head, he hated acquiescing like he did, but he wanted Nyquist to be
happy, so he accepted the turn of events.
The
date went ahead as planned, with the two going out for dinner at a fancy
beachside resort. The jasmine tea flowed freely, although the conversation did
not. The date was a classic example of why Glengarry had been single for so
long in the first place- a crippling fear of rejection that stopped him from
making any kind of move or stumbling in his sentences. Still, Nyquist was
endeared to him, and they saw each other for a few more dates.
After
the fourth date, Nyquist and Glengarry found themselves strolling along the
Mahakam River, after attending Church together. Nyquist, in her favourite blue
keybaya, and Glengarry, in his fez and a batik shirt and pants, were walking
side by side each other but were careful not to display too many signs of
affection, lest a jealous man jump Glengarry and try to steal Nyquist from him.
Glengarry, knowing the area well, found a little nook in the buildings and
walked Nyquist down it, so the two could be secluded.
“Thank
you for this, Anna,” said Glengarry, giving Nyquist a hug.
“No,
thank you,” said Nyquist, reciprocating and rubbing his back. The two of them
then parted a little so they could look in each other’s eyes and hold each
other at the waist.
“Anna,”
said Glengarry wistfully, looking down.
“What’s
wrong Don?” asked Nyquist, concerned.
“I
was such a disaster…and yet you kept coming back to me. Why?”
“Because
I know who you really are…I knew, deep down inside, you are a great person that
any woman would be lucky to have. You just let your insecurities get the better
of you…you’re so scared of screwing up that you aren’t yourself, and that’s why
you failed with all these women. I knew you needed some time to get you out of
your shell, and I was right- and the results have been fabulous.”
“I’m
sorry I put you through all that…I wish I didn’t have to buy you.”
“I
understand…you did what you needed to do.” Nyquist then brushed Glengarry’s
hair with her hand. “I didn’t like how this started either, but I knew, deep
down inside, that you were a good man.”
“You
just wanted me to prove it.” Glengarry lifted his head and flashed a warm
smile.
“Prove
it you did…and I couldn’t be happier for it.” The two then locked lips and
began a romantic kiss, their first genuine one, leading them to kiss well into
the night.
June
27, 2019,
16:08
local time,
The
Muirhead Household,
Lakeside,
March of Parry Sound, Republic of Marian
“Hey
buddy,” said Alan Muirhead, to his son Alex.
“Hey,”
said the 14-year-old Alex, excitedly.
“I’ve
got something for you,” Alan said with a smile, using his finger to tell Alex
to come with him. The birthday boy followed, his mouth agape like Pavlov’s dog.
At
sea level of their seaside hut sat Alan’s yacht, with a large crate inside it.
Alex’s eyes widened more with excitement as Alan took his time (on purpose) to
open the padlock.
“Oh
that’s so awesome!” Alex said excitedly. Chained and gagged inside the box was
Dubois, her body still showing the scars of her torture even though her
handlers took great care to fix up her health and beauty. Alex took no time to
walk up to her and start feeling around.
“Wow,”
said Alex, feeling her up, “she’s a real girl!” He continued
groping and feeling, giddy like a schoolboy with his new toy. “She’s all mine?”
Alex asked, disbelief at his new treasure seeping in.
“Yes,
yes,” reassured Alan, his face bearing the widest smile. “She’s all yours.”
“Awesome,”
said the still wide-eyed Alex. “Does that mean I get to punch her in the gut?”
Alan
smiled, not hesitating one bit. “Of course.”
Alex
responded by laying a haymaker right into Dubois’ stomach. “Oh man, that was
awesome! I need to do it again.” Alex, giddy over his newfound possession,
punched her a few more times in the stomach, causing her to cry. “Hey b****!”
Alex called out to her, punching her in the face a few more times, “you’re my
toy now! My toys don’t cry!” He then punched and slapped her a few more times
before Alan, chuckling at his excitement and happy for his son, stopped him.
“Now
now, son, you don’t want to hurt her too much...she will be your wife when
you’re old enough. So don’t treat her too badly.”
Alex
acknowledged the point, his giddiness still not subsided. “Okay daddy.” A
thought then came to Alex. “I can have sex with her, right?”
“As
many times as you like. We’ve given her a bed in your room with chains on it so
you can restrain her there and f*** her as many times as you like.”
“Awesome!
This is the best birthday ever!” Alex gave his father a big hug as the two of
them closed the crate and moved Dubois (after Alex again punched her in the
gut) to her new spot in Alex’s room- a spot whose terror she wouldn’t be able
to begin to imagine.
June
27, 2019
13:21
local time,
Heartland
District,
City
of Marian, Marian Capitol Region, Republic of Marian
“We
charge an average of $150 a month and $50 a week,” said Martin Riggs to Gary
Strudwick, “We usually have around 50 women for you to choose from, and,
if you decide you want to marry the woman you’re renting, you’ll be required to
purchase her at cost, which is 20 years’ worth of rentals minus what you’ve
already spent.” Riggs was the manager of the Republic of Marian Dating
Services shop in the town of New Ontario, a town 100 miles to the north of Marian,
while Strudwick, a prospective client, wanted an “attraction” for a heavy
metal-themed nightclub he had just opened in Marian.
“Interesting,”
said Strudwick, standing in front of the service desk. “Do I get a test drive,
though?”
“We
allow you to communicate with her for one hour before deciding on a rental. You
are free to do whatever you like with her provided you are not violent and
cause her physical harm. This includes sex with the woman, if you’d like,
unless the woman is a virgin where we ask that you respect that and restrain
your activities to everything that does not require vaginal penetration.”
Strudwick
was perplexed. “Some of your women aren’t virgins?”
Riggs
did not skip a beat. “Not everyone around the world follows the Laker way of
life. However, I assure you sex is not forbidden...the clerics have been more
understanding of our societies ‘troubles’ and thus knows that finding a woman
is much harder these days than it used to...so it allows these ‘test drives’
just to make sure that a man is not stuck with a wife he does not desire.
Furthermore, once the woman is rented, a cleric is on hand to grant a temporary
marriage, which becomes permanent should you decide to purchase the woman.”
“If
a man can have sex with a woman without renting her...it sounds an awful lot
like prostitution.”
“Well,
we can’t control what our customers come in for, but we do charge $100 if all
the customer does is have sex. We also forbid customers from having sex with
the woman again unless he decides to rent her, and we charge for additional
‘test drives’ anyway. Believe me, we have gone through great pains to make sure
we are not a brothel.”
Strudwick
nodded in approval. “All right...give me a tour.”
Riggs
showed Strudwick around. At the moment, Riggs had 55 women for the customer to
choose from, all of which were kept in cells that were furnished like a small
bachelor pad. The women were all naked, kept with a chain attached to their
necks that started at the wall overlooking the bed, loose enough so that they
could walk around somewhat freely in their cell. The women were forced, on a
rotating basis, to work at Riggs’ other establishments, Marian’s chain of
luxurious Crescent Hotels and its upscale restaurants, where they could be
observed in their more ‘traditional’ roles of cooking and cleaning.
As
Strudwick looked around, he saw many that caught his eye, but only one piqued
his interest.
“Interesting,”
said Strudwick, noticing a woman. “When did you get Lolita?”
“Oh
she’s one of our best,” said Riggs, acknowledging the customer’s interest in
Paige Hutton. “Don’t let all the tattoos and piercings fool you...she’s an
excellent cook and cleans up very nicely. She’s also as sweet as jasmine
tea...thus, we charge top dollar for her.”
Strudwick
had a ploy to reduce her price. “All those piercings are not proper...they’re
forbidden. She may be nice but she should not modify what God gave her.”
“All
my other customers love her piercings though.”
Strudwick
liked them too, but decided to continue the charade. “I find it interesting
that she hasn’t been sold...if the piercings were that good, then someone would
have paid ‘top dollar’ for them, would they not?”
“Yes,
but not everyone has ‘top dollar’.”
“So
all of your top women have troubles being rented, right? Eventually, if they
stay here long enough, people are going to start wondering about them.
Besides,” Strudwick paused to examine her body, “she’s not a virgin...that’s
not top dollar right there. Any true Laker knows that.”
Riggs
grimaced, letting out a sigh without offering a response.
“I’ll
tell you what...I’ll give you $2000 a month for her. No questions asked.”
“Deal.”
Riggs agreed reluctantly, hoping she could fetch $4000 for her, but had to
concede that the customer was right. He arranged for the cleric to come with
traditional marriage clothes for Hutton, as she was officially married to
Strudwick in a hasty ceremony before being spirited off with him.
June
27, 2019,
14:09
local time,
Encinitas
Police Headquarters,
Encinitas,
California
“Do
we really need to lead this interrogation?” Tyler asked
Monroe, frustrated.
Monroe
was curt. “May I remind you who is paying your salary, Tyler?”
Monroe said. “The butler did it...now go in there and get it out of him.”
Tyler
took a deep breath before going into the interrogation room with Reefer,
reluctantly.
As
they were in the interrogation, Monroe fielded a phone call.
“Yes,
they’re in there,” said Monroe on the phone. “We got the butler...now we’re
working on getting that confession. You’ve got a child’s remains with Heidi’s
and the butler’s DNA on it? Nice lab work. That should do the trick...we got
this guy dead and buried...what’s that? Well, what more do you want? I’m
getting a phony confession with planted evidence and a diversion away from the
Sandersons...oh okay, I’m sorry, thanks for that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Monroe then closed his phone. After an hour, Tyler and Reefer emerged from the
interrogation, satisfied.
“We
got it,” said Tyler to Monroe.
“Good,”
said Monroe, flashing a wide smile. “See, you should never doubt your
captain…it’s why I got the job.”
“We’re
going to get this transcribed,” said Reefer. “He told us he had some help but
couldn’t remember the details so we’ll need to talk to him later.”
“That’s
fine.” Monroe’s smile was wider than the Pacific. The captain stood
triumphantly basking in his glow as Tyler and Reefer left to write out the
tape. Before they did, they exited the station and left a note for Margaux, who
then made a call.
June
27, 2019,
23:19
local time,
Seduction
Nightclub, Entertainment District
City
of Marian, Marian Capitol Region, Republic of Marian
“Hush,
little baby, don’t say a word,” sang Paige Hutton quietly to herself. “Hmpf! Mama’s
gonna buy you a mockingbird.” Hutton took in a gulp, starting to feel a pain
inside her that commenced with her being rocked back and forth.
“And
if that mockingbird won’t sing,” she continued, before wincing in pain once
more, “Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring. Ouch! Ooooh...ah...”
She panted heavily several times before catching her breath and continuing the
song.
“And
if that diamond ring turns brass,” Hutton sang, a quiver entering her voice,
“Mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass.” Hutton then let out a loud
scream. Oh dear, she thought to herself, trying to recover from the
pain, please let this be over soon. The man on top of her
wouldn’t relent, though.
“And
if that looking glass gets broke,” she sang before screaming again, “Mama’s
gonna buy you a billy goat,” she sang, with tears now starting to come out of
her eyes. As she breathed to help her relax, the man’s actions renewed her
fear. Oh no, she thought, doing her best not to recoil at the
horrors of the man’s hands rubbing themselves all over her breasts, he’s
so filthy...what did I get myself into?
“And
if that billy goat don’t pull,” she continued her song, quivering and tearing,
with deep breaths so she could endure the ordeal, “Mama’s gonna buy you a cart
and bull.”
“And
if that cart and bull turn over,” she sang before letting out another yelp,
“Mama’s gonna buy you a dog named Rover.”
“And
if that dog named Rover won’t bark,” she sang, before starting to pant heavily
again, letting out many short breaths, as the man’s movements became more
intense. “Mama’s gonna buy you a horse and cart,” she continued, before the
feelings inside her body started to overwhelm her. Oh no, oh no, oh no! Hutton
thought, with her moans starting to get progressively louder before reaching a
crescendo with a loud scream that shook the entire house.
She
took a deep breath before the man got up from on top of her, wearing an
extremely satisfied grin. After the man left the room, Hutton curled up in her
bed and finished the lullaby her mother always sang to her after she had a
nightmare.
“And
if that horse and cart fall down,” she sang, crying uncontrollably, with the
singing by now reduced to a barely audible whisper, “You’ll still be the
sweetest little baby in town.” Hutton continued her crying, angrily punching
her pillow several times and kicking her feet up and down, before getting so
tired from the emotional distress that she fell sound asleep.
“Love is the only thing in life that nourishes us and strengthens us. It is also the only thing in life that can deplete us and weaken us at the exact same time. Yet, no matter how many times it lets us down, we keep coming back for more.” -Isla Broderick, “The Quest for Companionship” (1936)
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